When my youngest sister Emma was born in Portugal in 1983 there still existed a series of “by-laws” – for want of a better term – that were a hangover from the “Estado Novo”; the Salazar régime that ended in 1974. In this case, I am referring to a list of approved names for children. In a sense I can understand the existence of such a list as it was designed to protect children from being tarnished with silly names that later on in life might subject them to being ridiculed by their peers. Portugal being a very Catholic country, however, this list was a long line of Maria of this and Maria of that when it came to girls names. My father had to jump through multiple fiery hoops – providing certified letters from the British Consulate – to prove that “Emma” was a dignified name for a girl in the Anglo-Saxon world. All good…but it took a bit of work.

Cristina and I settled on “Inês” before she was born and once we knew her gender. In Spanish the “e” is written with an acute accent but I very much wanted a circumflex as something unique, in part, but also very much as an affectionate nod and acknowledgment of my Portuguese culture. The very kind lady who received us at the Civil Registry in Barcelona wasn’t so sure. She huffed and puffed a fair amount about it. My quiet thoughts were: “Come on: it’s just a nuance of inflection!” She turned around to consult a colleague of her’s on this point who by chance had received a Brazilian couple earlier on in the day.

“Oh no…that’s fine. All the Brazilians write it like that.”

Good to go!

Brasiiiiillll!!! Tat-ta-ta-ta-ta-taaaaaaaaa…….